Finding My Religion
by spontaneousfanfic
Summary: House's encounter with Clarence has an unexpected impact. My first fanfic, please R&R! Oneshot


I never thought I'd write a fanfic, although I do really enjoy reading them. This came to me spontaneously a few nights ago while I was lying in bed waiting to fall asleep; the narrative just started running through my head pretty much complete.

I hope you enjoy - please be kind.

(BTW, see if you can find my :shout out: to a couple of my favorite fanfics!)

FINDING MY RELIGION

House leaned heavily against the passenger side door, the armrest digging angrily into his ribs. Despite his discomfort, House made no effort to adjust himself to a more comfortable position, too lost in his self to be concerned with the nuisances of physical pain. Deep in thought, House ignored his impromptu chauffer for the evening.

James was used to House's sullen silences and knew better than to try to talk to his cantankerous friend when he got like this. Wilson pulled up to House's place and something that was a cross between a wry grin and a grimace crossed his face as he watched House yank the car door open, grab his cane and his Ipod and slowly make his way to the front door. Something was different about House tonight, but he wasn't about to stick around to find out what it was. He'd seen enough cancer patients to know the look of someone who was wrestling with their relationship with a higher power. House was gone without a backward glance and James found there was a familiar comfort in the lack of a goodbye or word of thanks.

House wasn't religious, that much would be obvious to anyone who spent more than a few seconds with the man. But something about Clarence moved him in a way that he had never felt before. Was it the irony of curing a man who sat on death row that caused him such distress? He was not the type to be bothered with philosophical conundrums.

For him patient cases were as clear as black and white. He never gave a damn about the patients, where they came from or what happened to them after he released them from his care. All he cared about was the puzzle. So what was it about this man's case that caused his stomach to clench and his mind to scream? He avoided spending time with patients as much as humanly possible, but his interaction with Clarence moved him and stirred strange whirling sensations deep inside him. Something inside him was urging him to his knees.

House stumbled into the smallest room of his apartment, not knowing what he was doing. Barely aware of his surroundings, motivated by a force that he could not control, he threw himself to his knees and bowed his head in a posture of prayer.

His cane hit the wall as he fell, the rubber tip leaving a blackish skid mark on the white paint. House knew not why, but he clasped his hands around the closest thing he could reach, his knuckles white from the force of his grip.

Trembling slightly and imperceptibly shiny from a light sheen of sweat that had gathered at his hairline, House bowed his head and for the first time since his infarction (when he still had hope) he was moved to prayer.

He began the prayer slowly and haltingly unsure of what he was saying, struggling to give words to the turmoil coursing through his body, his blood, his veins. Gradually he picked up speed as he found the rhythm of prayer and confidence in his entreaty. He rocked back and forth with the cadence of the litany running through his head. A low moan escaped between his lips...

_Dear God or god or Dog or whoever or whatever is up there pulling our strings if there is anyone at all... Pleasepleaseplease make this feeling go away and I SWEAR I will NEVER drink close to an entire bottle of cheap alcohol ever EVER again. Nothing good ever comes from patient interaction and this guy was no different. Thanks to him I am now drunker than I have ever been in my entire life, sick as a dog and facing a murderous hangover in the morning. And since you have finally convinced me to pray I don't think that it would be to much to ask for you to make Cuddy and Stacey disappear from the face of the earth or at least until I am cured from this hangover. If, however, that is too much to ask, then please God, strike them mute so I can avoid hearing the banshee screams from Cuddy and the snide nagging remarks from Stacey tomorrow morning. I mean, since you did make me a cripple for the rest of my miserable life I think it's the least that you can do. And no, in case you are wondering, I don't forgive you. Oh, and while you're at it, please poke out Cameron's eyes so that I don't need to bear her pathetic puppy eyes and sympathy...oh, and if you could just get rid of Eric and Chase tomorrow too, that'd be swell . Since I am well aware of how inept a god you are, might I suggest causing them bleed to death from a horrible hangnail. While seeping necrosis caused by an infection of a hangnail is much more interesting as well as super gross, that process works much too slow to be of any use to me in this particular situation. Or perhaps you could give them food poisoning from those awful cafeteria burritos...PS: You suck...oh, and Amen. And since I know that you require gifts from your followers in payment of your blessings, I have something for you._

House leaned forward, and with a splash, gave forth his offering to the porcelain god before him.


End file.
